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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28549239">Wearing gloves</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/aello_np/pseuds/aello_np'>aello_np</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>CSI: Crime Scene Investigation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>#wearinggloves, Episode Related, Episode: s05e23 Iced, M/M, Missing Scene</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:48:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>733</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28549239</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/aello_np/pseuds/aello_np</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Gil Grissom loves it when Conrad Ecklie is wearing gloves...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gil Grissom/Conrad Ecklie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Wearing gloves</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Re-watching old eposides can be fun, you sometimes catch things that seemed innocent the first time you saw them and suddenly appear to be so much more...</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>A muffled sound escaped Gil’s mouth, as the hand landed on his buttock. He tried not to move, to keep perfectly still. He was bent over a desk, naked, the smooth surface cool against his hot skin and his aching penis. He was gaged and his hands were securely tied behind his back. Just the way he liked it. The way he needed it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A hand pressed against the middle of his back, keeping him in place. It wasn’t necessary, there was no other place he’d rather be right now. But it was part of the game they both were playing. He felt the warmth of the other man’s thighs press against him, and the hard length of his arousal, still confined in his clothes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It had been way too long since they’d been together like this. Most of the time he managed to ignore the need to submit himself to the other man when he ran into him in the lab. He didn’t even like him, yet he couldn’t deny that there was something between them. He didn’t want to analyse it, it was only purely physical. And there was nothing wrong with itching a scratch. He didn’t manage to suppress the sensual memories that came flooding back to him, firm hands that held him down and slick fingers that teased him almost endlessly before stroking him to completion. But he managed to ignore them. Most of the time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Until some hours ago this morning, when his self-restraint had faltered and he couldn’t pass the opportunity that had presented itself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>There had been a one-hour recess at court and he was just on his way back when he noticed the yellow tape securing a crime scene. Someone was sitting on a bench in front of the building and Conrad Ecklie was standing right in front of him, the sleeves of his blue shirt rolled up to his sleeves, taking pictures and bagging evidence.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hello, Conrad,” he greeted jovially.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ecklie turned around with a frown, sizing him up from head to toe with a quick glance, then turning to the body again. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I thought you were in court,” Ecklie groused.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“We had a one-hour recess. I’m on my way back now,” Gil explained. He’d noticed Ecklie’s eyes wandering down along his frame before turning back to the body and couldn’t help remembering the last time Conrad had looked at his naked body. He scolded himself. He was on his way back to court and shouldn’t think these thoughts right now. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“And this must be Mr Billmeyer,” he noticed. “I’m so glad he’s back.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Very funny,” Ecklie said cooly, pulling the cigar from the dead man’s mouth with a pair of tweezers.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You might wanna have Hodges analyse that cigar,” Gil offered as Ecklie sniffed the cigar before bagging it. It must have been years since Ecklie had processed a scene himself. These days he was mostly busy with paperwork. He probably had no clue anymore how things were actually being done. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>”Oh, and the print tech is free. He could spray that party hat with ninhydrin,” he added generously. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I think I remember how to do my job, Gil. Thank you,” Ecklie gave back smoothly, completely ignoring the ironic tone in Gil’s voice. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Gil hesitated for a brief moment, staring at Ecklie’s back. He should leave, he told himself. But he couldn’t let it rest. He let his gaze travel down along Ecklie’s frame. “I love it when you wear your gloves,” he finally added and slowly walked away, well aware of Ecklie’s eyes following him. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And there he was, mere hours later, naked and aroused, gagged and his hands bound with Conrad’s tie. Bent over a desk in a hotel room, achingly hard and his buttocks burning from being spanked and in desperate need of a good fuck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So,” Conrad mumbled, tracing his fingertips along Gil’s spine. “You love it when I wear my gloves?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unable to speak, Gil only nodded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm, must be your lucky day, I brought a pair,” Conrad said and Gil heard the tell-tale snap of a latex glove being pulled on. “And I know exactly what I’m going to do with them.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gil groaned around the gag. Conrad might be a pencil pusher and a jobsworth and Gil seldom agreed with him in the lab. But damn, he really loved it when Conrad was wearing gloves. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Finis. </span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
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